"aoife" poems
he looked at me as if i was poetry
and he held me.
he held me as if my thorns weren't there, as if they didn't even touch him,
when they actually hurt him, cut him almost as deep as my wounds that he's been trying to heal.
but he stayed
through the drought and the hurricane.
he bled for me, he held me through my insanity.
and i've never been so afraid,
i'm afraid he's going to love me.
—k. aoife maude
i'm afraid i'll hurt him even more.
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 1:17 PM UTC
My little redheaded cousin
Still in elementary school
Or whatever it's called in Belfast
The news just came in
From the other side of the pool
The Brexit movement has passed
Will little Aoife still be
Able to travel freely southward
To see the rest of her family in Ireland?
I'll have to wait and see
If North Ireland's change will be hard
I have no idea what's being planned
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
it wasn't just the fingerprints that you left on my door hinge, it was all of the broken pieces i gave you for i thought you'd change.
— k. aoife maude
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 5:32 AM UTC
Her baby was buried
in a grave alongside 827 other babies.
Who knew no mothers.
Her mother thought it best
to let the nuns help her sell the child to the Americans.
The babies would have had names like Dermot, Aoife, Sandra and Sean
"Would have" isn’t an awfully good thing to think about.
It was a typically miserable November Sunday
When they brought her over there
after that last mass.
Unrelated to this, there is a launderette named the Magdalene
in the city I live in, which is nowhere near Tipperary but in the East of England.
In fairness, it is located on Magdalen Street, without the second “e”,
A once rough and tumble but now an up and coming kind of place,
where among the students and young professionals getting their whites cleaned
the only ones likely to take offense at this are students of history or the named émigré children of
Irish parents.
I’ve been told it’s now a chain of launderettes, but I imagine the owners have enough on their mind
without constantly Googling their services.
When they let her out of the home for troubled girls,
it was the warmest July she’d ever seen.
Some days the baby’s name is Michael, others it’s Matthew, recently, it’s been Corey, Ryan, even Sean.
But she never wishes that it would have been a girl.
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC
i can't say i loved you like some hero of old
the greatest beast i've had to fight is a
man who told me girls couldn't do
anything (and yeah, i proved him wrong, but
he left thinking me the exception,
not the rule)
don't treat me as othello, far from home and struck
down with words stronger than desdemon's love
the moor was everything i'm not
don't call me boudica
don't call me scathach or aoife -
the reason their once-bright flames are
so captivating is that their hearts were strong and
more alive than their eyes (which
danced with fire even as they died)
they were heroes and i am here
i couldn't love you like a warrior,
conquistador,
ruler -
yet.
but it's what's coming that matters,
not what came. (of course i can't love you with
fire not yet mine.
it will be.)
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC
Today I upset you
And I truly didn't mean to
I sometimes forget there are consequences for my actions
Sometimes I forget that I can hurt others
Even if it is a tiny thing
I don't think you realized how much I meant my apology
You are my newest best friend
Someone who has recently entered my heart
We are coming down from the high of our honeymoon stage
Where neither of us can do wrong
And today I did wrong
Today I hurt you in some way
I can't mean it enough when I say
I'm sorry
I know that you might think it's okay
But it really isn't
I need to learn that I can hurt you
And I'm sorry I did
I will make it up to you some way
Maybe by writing a poem about how sorry I am
And how much of a great friend you are
For listening to my endless obsessions
For listening to my horribly cheesy puns
For listening to me ***** and moan about silly girls
Thank you
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
what
is
this
what
are
we
too
early
to
be
called
love
too
risky
to
be
in
love
*f
a
l
l
i
n
g
for
you*
i think,
i think i would
i might already did
because if i didn't
i wouldn't
ache
for
you.
—k. aoife maude
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 8:15 AM UTC